


Prison Brand

by Silverheartlugia2000



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Captivity, Hurt/Comfort, Prison, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9741809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverheartlugia2000/pseuds/Silverheartlugia2000
Summary: Link had scars after his journey. Most didn't bother him anymore. There was only one that he continued to hide. Set in Twilight Princess. -edit- fixed grammar and added sentences that I was too tired to catch before.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a headcannon I've had for a long time. I've mentioned it briefly in the old version of Green furred cub. And it will again be mentioned in the rewrite but for now I just wanted to put a little meat on this idea I've had sitting in the backroom for years.

He didn’t notice it at first. Once the light spirit had pointed out his clothes he realized that he was on two feet again without feeling a thing. Throughout his journey in cleansing the ancient tree he felt soft twinges but figured it was just the feeling of wearing the gauntlets, something he was unused to. Then he was in fur again, running free though the fields then town and up mountains. As much as it hurt the first time, as painful as it was to see his own father figure lunge at him with intent to kill. The wolf had one quality that he never wanted to give up. The speed the wind the way his heart soared in the freedom and adrenaline. Running as the wolf was a feeling he couldn’t describe, Link wondered if this was what his dear mare felt, why she loved the wide-open plains of Hyrule field more than their village. He asked her later at one point when he realized he could hear her voice. She answered with a laugh. “Very different when it’s your own hooves on the ground and another on your back isn’t it?”

  
But the more he ran the worse the burn became, until it became so common that it disappeared from his mind. It wasn’t until Renaldo finally FINALLY ordered him to stay at the inn and rest, recover, eat. Midna finally couldn’t refuse the fact that he needed to care for the burns the cuts the bites from after scaling the volcano, jumping up a frozen waterfall, then chasing a burning wagon halfway across the country and nearly collapsing in Kakariko street, that he found it.

  
Midna had relented to give him privacy in the hot springs. After double then triple checking that she had for sure left his shadow Link started peeling off the dirty sticky hero’s outfit. It took him a few tries to work out the straps of his right gauntlet pulling it off. His forearm felt almost cold without it but perfectly fine. His left hand however..

  
Link couldn’t help the hiss as he pulled the cloth off. After a few seconds of letting the sting settle he puts his hand under the lantern light and grimaced. The skin on his wrist was raw but also healed? It was clearly irritated still, but seeming half repaired due to the odd fairy and dips in the spirit spring. It didn’t hinder his movement in the least, too low on his arm to have touched the joint of his wrist. It took him a full three minutes do narrow down what the cause could be out of all his battles.

  
The shackle. His ‘leash’ of sorts that would rematerialize the moment the fur came back. That’s why it was still tender. It rubbed and chafed and bumped his arm -leg?- as long as it was there, once it was gone his body tried to repair it, the glove far less irritating but still not ideal. Until the next time the wolf came back and the cycle started over.

  
Link frowned at his wrist, it already had scared to a point, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t get a respite anytime soon.. He pushed it aside for the moment focusing on ridding his body of the sweat and grime it accumulated, redressing new wounds and checking on old ones. Before putting his gloves back on he used a spare strip of gauze and the ointment Renaldo gifted him to wrap it up carefully.

  
He never got much chance to check on it, out of all of his scars he was most reserved of this one. Every time he treated it, it was only when Midna was away. He kept it hidden, kept it covered, kept the guilt boxed that would surface in his companion even if she was not the one who chained him.

  
It wasn’t until after the final battle that anyone saw. Then again, he was rendered unconscious long enough to be brought back to the castle and strip searched by the medical wing to treat every little cut and bruise.

  
When he woke up he felt different. Something happened during the fight that brought the wolf and the Hylian into balance, both one and the same never to be separate again. Midna was different too, back in her true body. She set something in his lap when she visited.

  
The shackle, the LEASH, the reason he was suddenly wary of anyone touching his hand when it was naked-unprotected-vulnerable. If it was covered, whether by wrappings or his gloves he was fine. If anyone dared touch the tender skin he’d draw up, back away, and growl warningly without second thought. It would catch on things or get grabbed by enemies and Link would get this overwhelming panic of trapped-run-escape until it was let loose.

  
It sat in his lap. Cold, heartless, but empty of its captive. Link hadn’t wanted to wear it as long as he did, but in the Twilight he couldn’t be seen, even in the light no one saw him as a boy in pain, rather a monster to be chased away. He never brought it up with Midna during the journey. Her fingers were too small and magic too volatile for such a delicate task. The lock couldn't be undone without a key. Link had set her free from her chains, now she had done the same.

  
Once the hero was finally deemed able to leave the castle without supervision, and before Midna returned to her own realm they made one last trip together up Death Mountain. Midna stood silently as Link gave the iron cuff one last look before it slipped through his fingers falling for what seemed ages into the magma below. Silver turned red, sinking in its new bed and melting away.

  
The leash was gone. The wolf was free. But the brand would stay with him forever.


End file.
